


No Matter What

by assbele



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assbele/pseuds/assbele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Richard had been killed in the final battle? Asbel has a hard time dealing with Lambda's oppressiveness when he is already suffering himself. If only there was a sign for him to grasp, hold dear, and move onward from...</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> oh gosh this is so bad and so OOC and i'M REALLY SORRY RICHARD I LOVE YOU A LOT sorry i made you die richard sorry i made you mean lambda sorry i made you OOC and sad asbel sorry you're a dweeb hubert oh gosh i hecked up
> 
> THIS WAS A REQUEST FROM MY SISTER BUT I HOPE SOMEONE OUT THERE ENJOYS THE OOC AU EMOFEST

"Asbel."

He turns to the sound emanating from the doorway, squinting his eyes as light from the hallway splatters onto his bedroom floor. He recognizes the silhouette standing there instantaneously, but makes no effort to welcome him in. Asbel rolls over in his bed, welcoming the darkness of warm blankets and pillows. By turning his back to the door, he hopes that his brother would just go away. He doesn't.

"Brother, this is ridiculous. You have cooped yourself in here for far too long. It has been over two months since the battle, and it is urgent that you stop neglecting your duties as Lord."

He knows. He knows this. Hubert doesn't have to tell him that. He sighs, pulling the blanket over his face. His brother sighs at the gesture, and closes the door. The light is cut off and the room is once again enveloped in silent, comfortable darkness. Asbel's gaze is fixed on the floor. He doesn't want to talk to Hubert. He knows what's going to be said. Again and again.

He feels the bed slant downward as his little brother takes a seat at the foot. "Look, Asbel. It's not like you to do this. What has gotten into you?"

He bites his lip. He doesn't want to talk. He hasn't for two months. He doesn't want to say it. Not then, not now, not ever. Not when it's his best friend being talked about like that.

"Asbel, please. I'm your brother. If you won't tell me, then… I just…!"

He sees Hubert's shoulders shake slightly in the dark, and he feels a twinge of guilt in his chest. He considers reaching out a reassuring hand, but he doesn't want to. He can't. No one was there for Richard. He wasn't there for Richard. So he shouldn't be there for anyone else now. Asbel knows that everything he ever held as a moral standard in the past always fell to pieces. He couldn't save anyone in the end.

_That man is a fool. He still believes in your supposed 'worth'. How pathetic._  
  
He knows Lambda is right. That's why he can't talk to Hubert. He'll just end up hurting him, too. Asbel doesn't want anyone else to suffer because of him. It's not worth it.

"I wish things had ended differently too, Asbel. But you have to face reality; he's gone."

He wants it to be a lie. Richard had been supposed dead once, but he was still there. Richard always comes back. His best friend. He's always there. He promised. But now…

Blood trickles off Asbel's hands. His sword clatters to the floor.

_It was your fault. Your excuses grow tiresome. You could not even protect the one you claim to have cared about most._

No…!

_You are a pathetic excuse for a fool, human. Your words mean nothing. In the end, mere words save no one. Your 'friend' is dead by your own feeble attempts to save him._  
  
He's sinking deeper, deeper, deeper down into the black depths of his mind, where the truth pierces him like hundred of daggers and reality is skewed like a savage animal above the firey pit. He still feels Richard's limp form on his chest, his cold fingers locked between Asbel's warm ones. Blood. So much blood. He feels tears shrieking for escape, but it hurts too much for them to come. He rolls his head deeper into his pillow, where he feels his breath stifling and he struggles for air. Like how Richard must have felt before he died. Trapped.

"Brother, stop this at once!"

The choking warmth of the pillow slides out from under him, and Asbel's cheek hits the cold, flat surface of the mattress. How Richard must have felt hitting the floor for the final time.

"Please, Asbel, I'm begging you! Talk to me! Why won't you get up? We're all so worried about you, dammit!"

Hubert sounds like he's going to cry again, and it's going to be his fault. How he always is, hurting everyone around him. Making everyone suffer. No matter how hard he tries to stop it, things always turn out the same. He's been stuck in his own stubborn rut for too long. Asbel's need to comfort others is gone. It only leads to ruin.

_The world is better without your worthless, fleeting 'hope'. Destroy his hopes, human named Asbel. Set this fool straight. Tell him about the truth you've come to hold so dear._

He feels Lambda's consciousness pushing his mouth into talking, and the breath gets caught in his throat. It feels stiff, unnatural. How Richard must have felt.

"Because," Asbel starts, "Richard will never get up again."

He hears Hubert inhale sharply and turns to look at him. Their eyes lock for an instant before Asbel stares off at the ceiling.

"So, I won't either."

"That's…" he trails off. Asbel knows his brother is looking for words he'll never find.

"All that mattered was saving him. But instead, I killed him."

"That was an accident—"

"No, it wasn't, Hubert. We were all fighting Richard. Purposefully."

Hubert falls silent.

"Richard won't be here again. As long as the world exists. We grow so attached to people, don't we, Hubert? And in the end, we end up hurting everyone we care about."

"Asbel, you don't—"

"That's why, in the end, it's just better off that no one cares at all."

He hears Hubert choke. He supposes hearing the truth so blatantly must hurt, but pain is the weight of the world. That's something he learned from Lambda very quickly.

_See how he trembles. Humans have a difficult time understanding what they do not want to accept._  
  
He feels bad for telling Hubert now. He just went and hurt someone he cares about. Again. Somehow, even if he's trying to help, he always, always, always makes it worse.

_Your thoughts are growing tiresome. Your foolishness is becoming repetitive._

He begs Lambda for silence. He knows already. He knows.

_Your humiliating display of emotion disgusts me. Your foolish attempts for peace of mind are meager at best._

He chokes back a sob. If only he could go back in time – save Richard – stop himself from the final blow –

_And what would that accomplish? You would only end up destroying him at a later point in time._

Asbel wishes it weren't true, but he knows Lambda is right. That's how it always happens. He hurts everyone. Richard's pale, lifeless face frowns at him in disappointment. It's always the same. 'You couldn't even save your best friend' he hears Richard saying. Over and over.

_You are alone. Were you to secure your foolish self any close companion, you would kill them all over again. The thrill of battle is too alluring._

He didn't want to fight Richard. He'd wanted to save him. It was only because Lambda was inside Richard that he had to—

_Is it not enough that you achieved what you ultimately set out to do? You calmed the Lastalia and absorbed me. You claimed to resist me, but it is now clear that you have lost control. I could take over at any time._

He knows it's fine. Lambda is a part of Richard that lives on. If that were to happen…

"Asbel."

He looks up at Hubert, whom he'd almost forgotten was still there. He wished he would leave before something bad could happen to him. He knows he lost control of Lambda. Anything could happen, now.

"Why don't we go for a walk? Maybe some fresh air would help."

"Richard can't get fresh air."

Hubert falls silent only for a moment before the door swings open. The Lhant brothers flinch at the intruding light, and Asbel pulls the blankets over his head to block out the sting.

"Asbel, it's a beautiful day outside. Why don't you get up? The sun is warm and inviting." Cheria. Always so intrusive. He fights the urge to groan. He knows what's coming next.

"Hubert, why do you let him sit around in the dark? It's not good for him! This room is disgusting. It's dank and stuffy in here."

Asbel hears his brother sniffle. "Well, I—"

"No buts. The window is opening. _Now._ "

Before Asbel can even ponder whether or not to verbally object, he hears the curtains get tossed aside and the glass frame popped. He can feel the obtrusive sunlight grabbing at his eyelids, forcing its way beneath the sheets.

"Asbel…" she says, coming near him, "Please get up. You haven't moved barely at all since I saw you last. It would mean the world to me if you would just give me a sign."

He doesn't move. The covers will not move from his face, where they guard him from the stinging rays of sun. He doesn't want to deal with it; not right now.

"Okay, but… if you want to talk, you can… always talk to me. Okay, Asbel?"

He feels Hubert stand up from the bed. "Come on, now. We'll let him rest." Asbel is grateful that his brother still tries to look out for him, even after all the trouble he's always causing. He wishes he could thank him, but knows getting any closer would just bring suffering to them both. He hears Cheria utter a few complaints before the brushing of clothing and fluttering of feet is muffled behind the closed door, and silence falls upon him again.

Normally, he stands up and closes the window. Darkness is what Richard sees. That's what Asbel wants to see, too. But he's so tired. He rolls over and lets the blanket fall from his face, his eyes shutting against the burning sensation. But once they adjust, he looks at the sky. It's been a while since he really _looked_ , and it seems so small in comparison to how large it was the day he and Richard stood watching the sunrise with Sophie as children.

He wonders how Sophie's doing. He hasn't talked to her since the week after the battle. He can't even live up to the responsibility of looking after her. How pathetic he is.

Asbel is about to stand up and cut himself off from the judgmental sky when he notices a bird perched on his windowsill. It's a special thing for a bird to come so close, and he's not sure what to make of it. He thinks maybe getting near it would scare it off, but curiosity gets the better of him and the blankets are tossed to the floor. He feels dizzy standing at first; he does it so rarely, it always feels strange – but soon he's making his way to the window, and the bird is looking at him with wizened, staring eyes. The light reflects off them, shining. It feels unsettling, like a sign from the light itself. A breeze trickles in from the window and lifts the curtains high.

_You are sounding like a superstitious, sickeningly intimate child._

"Shut up, Lambda."

He notices a letter, strapped carefully to the bird's left leg, and he feels a flutter in his chest. How did it get there? Is it for him? The bird doesn't move as the red ribbon loosens from its leg, and the paper drifts to the floor. Asbel bites his lip; he can't deny it to himself that he's burning up with curiosity. The bird watches him from the window as he moves to sit on the bed, unfurling the note quizzically. When he reads the first line, his chest swells to the point of bursting and he feels horrifically sick. He almost can't bring himself to read on, but his eagerness wins him over and the words become devoured by his longing, fervorous eyes.

.  
 _Dear Asbel._

_It is to be assumed that you are reading this only because I have been slain in a battle undoubtedly caused by Lambda. I had never thought it would come to this, but once I realized what I was doing, I knew it was too late to go back. I'm sorry, Asbel. I didn't want to do this to you. I only have control for a few minutes; I apologize if my handwriting is incomprehensible. Let me tell you this, Asbel. I hope that it was you who dealt me the final blow. You have saved me countless times in our short lives, and I know you will always come to save me. If you freed me, then undoubtedly you have saved me yet again, from myself nevertheless. You are so dear to me, Asbel. If only I had time to tell you about all my feelings. Unfortunately, time is a luxury I do not have, so I must talk about you. Do not- and I repeat, do NOT, Asbel – blame yourself for what happened. No matter my fate, we will always be friends, regardless of anywhere I might be. If I may no longer live by your side, then I must ask you to do one last favor for me. In my absence, I would ask you to live a long, happy life. If not for you, then for me. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Asbel. No matter what. So you must, heedless of any trifling circumstances, live on for me. I know I've always been so selfish; I'm sorry. But please listen to my final request. I'm out of time now; I feel Lambda's mind pressing on mine again._

_Live on, Asbel. My dearest friend. Goodbye._

_-Richard_

_PS. Don't wonder how this letter got to you. As King, I have my resources. Be happy, Asbel._

For the first time in months, Asbel can feel himself crying. Lambda's trying to talk to him, but – he doesn't care. Richard isn't mad. He never was. It was all an elaborate lie, wasn't it…? Born from Lambda's vengeful web of malevolent emotions and his own feelings of worthlessness and regret. Yet again, Richard saved Asbel. It was always supposed to be the other way around. He wipes his eyes, the motion leaving red marks on his face. He doesn't mind. Then, as Richard's knight, he would have to give it another try. For Richard.

_You are a fool. Your sudden change of heart is superficial. No one can change their mind so easily._

"You're wrong, Lambda. I just did." He looks at the sun, letting it sting his eyes and wash over him wholly. "And in time, I think… you will, too."

Lambda has nothing to say anymore. Asbel has regained control.

"Even if I hurt them, I have to try anyway. Or Richard's lost life means nothing at all."

Maybe he is a fool, like Lambda insists. But in the end, he's Richard's fool. And he'll live on to that end. No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> and then he spends the rest of his life in a dark room writing gay fanfiction of himself x richard the end


End file.
